


Not on School Grounds

by ofplanet_earth



Series: They Say These are the Best Years [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bard is a cheeky little shit, Biology, Confessions, Lab Partners, Loner Bard, M/M, Popular Kid Thranduil, Thranduil is so embarrassed, after school activities, no fighting in the halls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 23:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5804236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofplanet_earth/pseuds/ofplanet_earth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A confrontation after hours leads to a confession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not on School Grounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poisongardens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisongardens/gifts).



> prompt fill on tumblr: first kiss and breaking the rules. I thought it fit will with my high school AU :)

“Hey! Give that back!” Thranduil stood by his locker, nearly running after the thief who’d just swiped his backpack. Until he saw the familiar wave of Bard’s dark hair and the shine of his motorcycle helmet tucked under one arm.

“Come get it, then,” Bard teased, but Thranduil only scowled and turned to stare at the blue metal inside his locker. Bard edged closer but kept Thranduil’s backpack well out of reach. “I texted you,” he tried.

“I saw,” 

“So?” 

“So what?” Thranduil sighed, pulled his jacket from its hook and slammed his locker closed.

“So do you want to come over tomorrow? We could finish up our report a couple days early.” 

“Sure,” Thranduil set off down the hall, not bothering to react when Bard swooped ahead of him, walking backwards with his backpack in tow. “Whatever.”

“What’s got your panties in a twist, princess?” 

“Nothing,” 

“What was it, detention? Did you get an A minus instead of an A? Oh, did you get formaldehyde in your hair again?” 

“Nothing is wrong, okay! Can you please just... give me my backpack and leave me alone? I’ll come over your house tomorrow. Whatever. Right now I just want to go home.” 

“Hey,” Bard slowed his retreat and caught Thranduil’s arm to get him to face him. “What’s the matter?” 

“It’s nothing, I’m fine. It's like you said, I got detention. My dad’s going to be pissed about it and I’m really not looking forward to him coming home this weekend.” Thranduil sighed. Half a truth wasn’t a lie, after all. 

“All the more reason for you to come over my place tomorrow. It’s an important project after all— it's worth half our grade. We’ll have to start working on it early, probably right before your dad gets home. And who knows, we might have to work on it all day,” Bard shrugged. “You might not make it home for dinner.” 

God, if only it were that simple. But being at Bard’s house all day on a Saturday would _not_ help Thranduil feel any better. He sighed and hung his head, sagging to lean against the wall of lockers with a dull clang. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“Hey,” Thranduil watched the ground as Bard’s shoes edged closer. “Are you alright?” 

“I told you, my dad’s—”

“Bullshit,” Bard snapped. “You’ve been avoiding me all week. Something’s up.” 

“We’re not friends, Bowman. You don’t know me, I don’t know you, so could you please just _give me my backpack_ and leave me the hell alone?” Thranduil made to grab for his bag, stumbling forward as he just missed the shoulder strap. 

“No. Sorry, but no. I’ve officially seen you cry and held your hair back for you while you barfed. You spent like, five minutes telling me how you had no real friends and then you gushed about the stars and shit.” 

Thranduil frowned and grit his teeth. “Thanks for reminding me, asshole.” He made a grab for the backpack again, only this time he caught the strap between his fingers and pulled. Bard held on, but he stumbled forward across the hallway, nearly knocking against the lockers before he regained his footing. Thranduil tugged again and spun, but the force of it sent them both careening towards the middle of the hallway. 

“What, are you embarrassed or something?” 

"Fuck off!”

“Oh my god you are! Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” 

“I haven’t been _avoiding you_ , I’ve been _busy_.” Thranduil punctuated his words with a yank on the strap of his backpack, more angry than embarrassed now, anyway. 

“Bullshit,” Bard called again. 

“You know what? I don’t care.” Thranduil threw his hands up and turned to stalk down the hallway. “Keep the fucking backpack. I’m going home.” 

“Hey,” Bard called after him, but he kept on moving. Nevermind the late bus had left already, nevermind that it was November and he had no ride home, he’d rather walk the whole way than stay and face Bard’s questions. “Hey!” Bard caught Thranduil’s elbow as he caught up to him. 

“WHAT?” Thranduil tried to fling Bard’s hand off, but he held on too tight. Instead he grabbed the collar of Bard’s shirt and used his leverage to push them both toward the wall until he could slam Bard into the lockers. “What do you want me to say?” He dug his fist against Bard’s chest, smirking at the shocked look on his face. “That you’re right? That I’m embarrassed? Well you win. I am. I had a bad night and I made a fool of myself and I said some things I really didn’t want you to know but that does _not_ give you the right to hold it over my head for the rest of—” 

All at once Bard dropped his helmet and Thranduil’s backpack, let go of Thranduil’s arm in favor of clasping both hands around Thranduil’s jaw. “Would you just— _shut up_ , princess,” He said, and pressed his lips against Thranduil’s. 

It started off soft, like an apology, but Thranduil was still wound tight, anger and embarrassment fuelling every breath and movement. He pressed Bard against the lockers again, their chins and their chests and their hips making harsh contact. The sound that feel from Bard’s mouth was as rough as it was vulnerable and it sent shivers up Thranduil's spine. He tipped his head and drove his tongue between Bard's parted lips, revelling in the smell of soft leather and the taste of spearmint.

“What the hell is all that commotion? School may be over for the week but that does not mean you can—” Thranduil broke away from Bard’s lips in time to see Mr. Greyhame standing outside the door to his classroom, hands on his hips and a scowl frozen on his face. He cleared his throat dramatically and Thranduil thought he could see a blush rising above the line of his beard. “Not on school grounds, boys,” he puttered.

“Yes sir,” Thranduil mumbled as he stepped back. He snatched his backpack and Bard’s helmet off the floor, turning to continue down the hall towards the exit. 

“Damn. Caught with our pants down,” Bard laughed. “You know, I like this look on you. Hair all messy. Lips swollen and red. Pants just a little too tight.” 

“Fuck you, Bowman.” Thranduil laughed as they burst through the front doors. 

“You heard Mr. Greyhame. Not on school grounds, princess.”

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to stalk me on [tumblr](http://ofplanet-earth.tumblr.com)!


End file.
